Fortitudo
by ipreferwestside
Summary: He needs to get to her. His wife. He needs to know she's okay. He needs her to know that he's okay. An 8x22 post-ep. COMPLETE.
_A/N: My 8x22 post-ep. Any similarities to others are purely coincidence and great minds thinking alike. I claim artistic license for any factual inaccuracies, especially with the medical stuff._

* * *

 **FORTITUDO** (Latin, strength)

* * *

The first thing he notices is the smell. He knows this smell; it's entirely too familiar.

Bleach.

Antiseptic.

Sounds cut through the haze of his brain next: the slow, regular beep, muffled voices over an intercom, people talking somewhere nearby, their voices hushed.

It takes him a few moments to get his bearings, and when his eyes flicker open, he immediately knows where he is.

And that's when he feels it.

The pain.

The right side of his chest throbs, and he tries to roll his shoulder to alleviate it some. But the pain shoots from his shoulder all the way down his side, and he can't stop the cry from escaping.

An unfamiliar man is at his side in an instant, not much older than Alexis, and he tries to say something to the stranger, but he can only gasp and croak around his dry throat.

The young man slips a straw between his lips and he manages to swallow a few sips. He clears his throat, testing his vocal cords before speaking. But even then, he can only get one word out before his body is wracked with coughs.

"Where-"

"Are you?" the young man guesses, and at the responding nod, he continues. "Mt. Sinai. You were shot, Mr. Castle. Your surgery-"

The nurse's words fade into the background, drowned out by the memories that flood his consciousness.

Kate walking into the bedroom…

Turning on the burner…

Caleb Brown…

A gunshot…

Kate…

 _Oh God._

"Kate?" he rasps, and when the nurse doesn't respond right away, he sits up, wincing momentarily at the pain. But he doesn't care. He needs to get to her. His wife. He needs to know she's okay. He needs _her_ to know that _he's_ okay.

"Mr. Castle, please, hold on." the nurse tries to hold him down, but he's too strong, just barrels right past him, IV pole trailing behind him.

He's met by an older man in a lab coat who blocks him at the door. "Mr. Castle, I'm Dr. Moore. Please, let's get you back in bed. You're weak, I don't want you passing out on me."

Castle squares his shoulders and stares. "My wife," he insists, ignoring his screaming muscles, the burning in his chest.

"Sit down," the doctor replies, "I'll take you to see her. She just got out of surgery, but she's going to be okay. Please, sit."

He barely listens to what the doctor tells him over the next few minutes, only that he has a wound that will heal, but it will take time and work and therapy to return to full strength.

Kate's surgery had reportedly gone well, but the doctor refuses to say any more than reassurances that she, too, will make a full recovery.

"Take me to her," Castle insists yet again.

"Of course."

* * *

He's seen her in the hospital before, of course. After the first time she'd been shot, before they were even a couple, when all he had was the hope that some day they could be more than just partners.

It seems like a lifetime ago.

Then, she'd been awake, messy bun and pale skin and she'd been beautiful, perfect, _alive._

Today she's still beautiful and perfect and alive, but her face is obstructed by tubes and cords, and she's unconscious, a tube helping her breathe. He knows she just came out of surgery, the tube is only until she wakes. But his wife, his beautiful, strong wife, doesn't look it.

She looks weak. Frail.

He lets the nurse wheel him to her bedside, and he takes her hand in his, his hand not in a sling.

"Kate…" he whispers, more like a growl, and when she doesn't respond, he simply squeezes her hand and pulls himself closer, his head dropping to his chest

He wakes when he feels a squeeze, and before he knows it he's surrounded by doctors and nurses, and one of them wheels him aside so he's out of the way. When they all leave, save for the one who's taking her vitals, he finally gets a good look at his wife.

The tube is out of her throat, and her eyes are on him, tired and concerned but _open_.

The nurse wheels him to her bedside and he takes her outstretched hand, thumb caressing her ring, and when she brings his hand up to brush a kiss to his knuckles he finally breaks.

"I thought-" he hiccups through his tears, his head dropping to his chest, too weak to even lean forward. "Jeez, Kate, will you stop getting shot?"

She laughs on an exhale, a choked sob full of relief, and lets go of his hand only to cup his cheek. "You're one to talk," she retorts, fingers traveling over his face, through his hair, brushing back the hair off his forehead. "We're okay, right?" she asks after a long moment.

He lifts his head to find her staring at him, brows furrowed, concern and fear laced over her features. He takes her hand again, lifts it to his own mouth, presses his lips to her palm. "Yes," he breathes into her skin, and when he looks back up at her her eyes are closed, but a small smile graces her lips. "We're okay."

"Oh good, you're both awake."

They turn at the voice, and Castle recognizes Dr. Moore. "She's okay, right?" he asks, and the doctor nods even as he looks at Kate's chart.

"Yes, she's fine. You'll both fully recover. It'll take some time, and a lot of physical therapy. You'll have to take it especially easy while you're healing, Mrs. Castle."

Castle glances back at his wife, but she looks just as confused as he feels. "What do you mean?"

Dr. Moore pulls a chair over and sits on the other side of the bed, across from Castle. "You're pregnant," he says quietly, his gaze on Kate. "Congratulations."

He hears a gasp, but he's too shocked to move, to think. _Pregnant?_ They hadn't been trying...hadn't talked about it, not with LokSat hanging over their heads...but the universe had other plans, apparently. "Are you...are you sure?" he finally manages, and when the doctor nods, he squeezes his wife's hand and looks back at her.

She's grinning, cheeks wet with fallen tears, and he's never seen her look so happy. Not when they'd first gotten together, not at their wedding, never. Her gaze flicks back to him, and all he wants to do is hold her, climb into bed next to her, but the ache in his chest flares when he moves.

"Don't, Castle," she chokes out, but she lets go of his hand to cup his cheek again. "And it's okay?" she asks the doctor. "The gunshots didn't…"

"No, it's fine. Everything's fine," the doctor reassures her, both of them, his gaze flicking back and forth. "Your body's recovering from intense stress, as you know, but the bullet missed anything vital, and your uterus was completely unaffected." He pats her knee, then stands. "Just take it easy. You're both going to be here for a few weeks while you recover, but I'm going to get you a joint room."

Castle moves to stand, but hunches over when the pain shoots through his torso. "Thank you." He begrudgingly lets go of Kate to hold out his left hand for the doctor to shake.

"Mr. Castle, you should go back-"

"Not happening, Doctor." He looks back at his wife, and he trails his hand up her calf, squeezing her knee before taking her hand again. "Kate," he whispers, squeezing her fingers, to bring her gaze back to him.

She blinks, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes when she meets his, and she lays her hand on his. "Pregnant, Castle," she whispers, the corners of her lips lifting. "A baby."

"A baby," Castle repeats. "I love you, Kate." He lifts her hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to her fingers, the ring on her fourth finger. "I love you."

"We're going to be okay, right?" she asks a few moments later, as she starts to drift back into unconsciousness.

"We're going to be great." He caresses her knuckles with his thumb as he remembers the conclusion of their first case together, of his claim that they could have been great. If only he'd known just how great they were going to be.

He'd had no idea then, but now?

They have a long road to recovery, but if there's one thing he's sure of, it's that their love for each other will see them through. And their love for each other, for the unborn child he already knows is a little fighter, their friends and their family, that will push them to thrive.

Always.

 **-FIN-**


End file.
